The Island Of Us

Chapter.3.The Cost Of A Promise

Marissa paces the sidewalk outside the free parking halls of the nursing home, racing through a whirlwind of emotions—from wild panic to helplessness. It was bad enough that she had to save the land, but now she has to be married to even have a chance of keeping it. She never expected such a condition in her wildest imagination. Not that it was a terrible one—she could understand clearly that Mrs. Hyde wasn’t selling out of desperation for money or to the highest bidder, but rather to a married couple.preserving her late husband’s wish

But what would she do? How was she supposed to make herself married in one hour? Is this the end for Lograves? Was this what she meant when she said she would do anything to secure their island?

Earlier, she had called Clara, her voice trembling as she explained everything—from Mrs. Hyde being unable to see, to the nightmare of seeing Stephen Ash and the shocking revelation from Mrs Hyde’s assistant about the condition for the sale.

“ Irs the end of the road, Clara,” Marissa whispered, her voice heavy with defeat.

Clara,shocked, tried to comfort her friend.”I’ll be there in five minutes, Mars, Whatever happens, we’ll face it together,” she assured before hanging up.

Marissa now sits on a stiff, plastic chair, its surface cold and unyielding beneath her. She shifts slightly, but the chair offers no comfort, only a faint creak in response. Running her hands through her hair, she tries to come to terms with the reality—it’s all over.

“Maybe I should have taken the money Mr. Ash offered,” she mutters to herself. “Maybe I could have found a way to sustain the kids and keep them here.” Her thoughts grow darker. Her sobs are quiet but heavy, her shoulders trembling under the weight of her emotions.

Suddenly, a gentle hand rests on her shoulder, soft but grounding. Before she can turn, warm arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her into a tight, reassuring embrace.

“Mars,” Clara cries softly, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I kept pushing you to try. It’s all my fault.”

Marissa lets out a shaky breath, her trembling hands reaching up to grasp her friend’s forearms, clinging to the comfort being offered. She dries her tear streaked face with the cloth clutched in her palm.

“What do we do now, Clara?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clara sniffs and wipes the tears streaming down her face. “Maybe we sit in the auction and see who gets the bid. Then, we’ll figure out the next step from there.”

Marissa nods weakly. “I guess…”

She’s interrupted by Victor, Stephen Ash’s assistant, who looks rather confused and unsure.

“Miss Marissa,” he says quickly, “I’m really sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak with you urgently.”

Marissa and Clara both look at each other, then back at Victor. Standing up, Marissa meets his gaze.

“You’re Mr. Victor, right? I saw you earlier with Mr. Ash—”

Victor cuts her off. “Yes, my name is Victor Bowen. I’m Mr. Ash’s personal assistant, and I need to speak to you urgently.”

“This is my best friend,” Marissa says firmly. “You can say whatever you have to say in front of her. We’re together.”

Victor hesitates, searching for the right words. Marissa encourages him with a calm, warm smile.

“You can just say it, Mr. Victor. We don’t bite,” she reassures him.

“Okay…” He sighs heavily. “Would you be willing to marry Mr. Ash for a week to secure the land for the auction?”

Marissa and Clara are both stunned.

“What?” Marissa snaps.

Clara looks at her friend in disbelief, then back at Victor.

“He’s willing to come to a compromise,” Victor adds quickly.

Marissa paces backward, her eyes glaring. “Over my—”

“Can you give us a minute?” Clara interrupts, covering Marissa’s mouth with one hand and gripping her shoulder with the other as if to draw her into an embrace.

“Just one minute!” Clara yells again, dragging Marissa to a shaded area of the parking lot with falling jasmine petals. She makes Marissa sit on another stiff plastic chair before releasing her tight grip.

“Clara, we’re not doing this,” Marissa snaps, attempting to stand up.

“And risk losing it all?” Clara responds softly, holding her hand and motioning for her to wait.

Marissa pauses, sighing deeply.

“Mars, you asked for a sign. This is it. This is how we save Lograves.”

“That man has no heart,” Marissa whispers bitterly. “All he knows is money.”

“But you do, Mars,” Clara replies, gripping her friend’s shoulders lightly but firmly. “You have a heart, and you know these things.”

Marissa’s eyes well up. “I don’t know, Clara. I guess I’m just scared. I never imagined getting married this way, and not to someone I don’t even love.”

Clara gently dries her tears. “Remember what Mrs. Beth always says?”

Marissa is soothed to remember her mothers words as she smiles faintly.

“You write your own story,” They both affirm

“Exactly,” Clara continues. “And you’re stronger than you know, Mars. I believe in you, and I’ll be beside you every step of the way, okay?”

Marissa nods slowly, embracing her friend.

They walk back into the nursing home and are directed to a room where Victor and Stephen are waiting. Stephen is focused on a ledger, clicking his pen in and out at the table. Victor stands at a distance, speaking on the phone.

As the door opens, Stephen’s attention shifts to the two women entering the room.

“I cannot believe you,” he snaps at Victor.

Marissa rolls her eyes.

“Not her,” Stephen continues, glaring at his assistant.

Victor steps closer to Stephen. “We talked about this, and that’s exactly why she’s here.”

“What does that mean?” Stephen demands.

“Mr. Ash, we really don’t have time,” Victor interjects. “If you don’t sign the registry now, you’ll be late for the auction.”

Stephen stands up, furious, but Victor stops him. “Mr. Greg wants this,” Victor reminds him.

Stephen glares but releases Victor’s grip. “I’ll deal with you later,” he mutters.

“Not so fast, Mr. Ash,” Marissa interrupts. “We have a contract to discuss—”

“I don’t care, Miss Jordan,” Stephen cuts her off coldly. “Whatever you do is fine. You can keep your charity-case orphanage; I really don’t care. But the moment you turn this marriage into a scandal, you can forget about your safe haven.”

Marissa glares at him. “Scandal marriage? You wish.”

Victor steps in. “Please, we have to leave now.”

The group moves to a confidential room of the nursing home where an officiating magistrate was earlier invited

They sign the marriage registry and exchange the rings which arrive just in time custom made by Stephen’s father on a whim months ago

“The rings fit perfectly, like they were made for you,” Clara remarks with a warm smile.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Ash,” she adds teasingly.

“Clara, please,” Marissa snaps. “I don’t appreciate silly jokes right now.”

“Noted, boss,” Clara replies playfully.

“Whatever,” Marissa mumbles with a weak frown.

“Congratulations, Mr. Ash,” Victor says softly.

Stephen meets his assistant’s gaze with a wry look. “You better not,” he mutters, touching the ring on his finger

He was not the most enthusiastic. To have just gotten married, solely to secure the land for the healing project, was not something he saw coming—not that it mattered much anyway. Stephen had been prepared to pull out when the marriage conditions came up, but the devil seemed to have other plans. His number one business rival, Jake Coss, was already preparing to secure the same land under the guise of another elderly couple he’d sent down to the auction.

Stephen knew Jake’s shady schemes all too well—another private lounge to conduct his dirty, underhanded deals. There was no way he could let that happen. Sure, Grey’s Healing Village could be built elsewhere, but Lougraves was the perfect spot, and more importantly, Jake Coss couldn’t have it.

But marrying this woman—this annoying woman with no sense or brains—was a price Stephen wasn’t looking forward to paying. Not in his wildest dreams.

“Is it time for the auction?” he asks grudgingly, adjusting his blazer.

Victor, briskly packing his laptop and other tools into his bag, replies, “Yes, sir.”

“And where is the nosy brat?”

“You really have no shame,” Marissa announces, walking into the office with Clara by her side.

Clara had opted for a change of outfit earlier. Fashion-forward as always, she carried a few options with her, a habit from her fashion week and ranch outreach days. She had insisted Marissa change out of her previous corporate wear, deeming it unfit for an auction. Now, Marissa stood in a gray silk dress that clung elegantly to her frame, accentuating her slender waistline.

It wasn’t a designer piece, but the way Marissa carried herself made it seem like it was. Her presence alone turned heads, exuding confidence and grace.

Victor’s eyes light up as he sees her. “Oh, you look amazing, Mrs. Ash,” he compliments.

“There’s really no need for the title, Victor,” Marissa replies with a polite smile. “Marissa is fine.” She nods gently. “But thank you.”

“Apologies, ma’am,” Victor says, clearing his throat. “I guess you’re all set.”

He steps back, gesturing toward the door for Stephen and Marissa to lead the way. Stephen looks at her briefly, his expression unreadable, before heading toward the door without a word.

Victor and Clara follow closely behind them as they make their way toward the grand hall where the auction is to take place.

The hall is abuzz with chatter, bidders mingling, and the auctioneer’s assistants moving briskly to finalize preparations. Stephen takes in the scene with his usual calm yet calculated demeanor, his mind already racing with strategies to outbid any competitor—especially Jake Coss.

Marissa, on the other hand, takes a deep breath. This was it—the moment that would decide the fate of Lograves